Not wanting to add any more guilt to the situation, but Amelia couldn't help but open her mouth to let Minerva really know what she thought about the whole Potter situation.

"The boy is only fifteen. Albus has already asked too much of him." And while she knew that her friend probably wouldn't agree with her, Amelia would never hide what she thought about Albus' use of the child. He might think it's for the greater good, but Amelia could think of many other ways that didn't involve an already orphaned child.

Squeezing McGonagall's hand in an attempt to soften the blow, she ran her thumb lightly over her middle knuckle, "I trust Albus, but with recent events, I worry that Albus isn't taken enough precautions. And with Dolores breathing fire in the halls, things could get out of hand. We owe to that boy to protect him. Even if that means protecting him from those who he trusts the most."

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It was not just Albus, it was all of them. Perhaps it was her more than most, he was in her House, he was her responsibility. It pained her to think of herself as a source of anguish for a boy who already had so much on his shoulders.

"I protect him, I protect all of them," she interjected coldly. Amelia's observations were brushing against a mountain of guilt Minerva was not willing to reveal. Tempted to pull her hand from Amelia's, her fingers twitched. "I trust Albus." She added, her tone unwavering.

She did, her trust in him was resolute, but for the first time in decades she was scared. Scared of everything Amelia was implying and more. Eventually, Umbridge would get him, eventually she would force him to leave and Minerva would be left alone to stand by his philosophy. She would be left alone to protect them from Voldemort.

Jaw clenched, back straight, she realized her grip had tightened around her friend's hand. She closed her eyes briefly as she progressively let the muscles of her hand relax.

"Let's get you to bed." This time it was not a suggestion or a piece of advice, she rose to her feet and gently pulled on Amelia's hand to invite her to follow.

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Suddenly realizing that she had quite possibly offended her friend, Amelia halted Minerva by squeezing her hand twice. Swallowing, she stood slowly and once she was sure the woman wasn't going to move, she let go of her hand and tucked her own neatly against her stomach.

"Minerva, I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend. Really. I know you trust Albus, and so do I. I'm just tired and a feeling a little raw, so I'm lashing out." She wasn't, but her distrust with nearly everything these days was beginning to show and she needed a cover, something Minerva would be willing to accept considering the last 36 hours.

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"You did not," the Scottish witch contested while averting her eyes. Her friend's words had not caused offence, they had rattled the cage in which she had imprisoned undesirable and distracting sentiments. The nuance was important, but she was not willing to bring it to light. Her friend had already been through enough.

Minerva took the small vial of sleeping potion she had dropped in her pocket and put it into Amelia's palm. "Time for dreamless sleep, my friend." There would be time for conversations, time to address their doubts and fears, time to confide in each other. But for now, what mattered was that she take care of her friend and what he friend needed was a moment of rest.